


Tainted Love

by trancer



Category: Glee, The Hollows
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, F/F, Femslash, Vampires, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-05
Updated: 2009-12-05
Packaged: 2017-10-18 01:57:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trancer/pseuds/trancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quinn‘s a vampire and the last thing Quinn ever expected was to be attracted to a witch. But, did that witch have to be Rachel Morgan-Berry? Glee crossover with The Hollows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tainted Love

_“I don’t want to start any blasphemous rumors,  
But I think that God’s got a sick sense of humor,  
And when I die, I expect to find him laughing”  
\- Blasphemous Rumors, Depeche Mode_

**

Quinn stood in the girl’s bathroom, facing the wall on the far end of the room. She leaned forward, palms pressed flat against the surface. Then, she tapped her forehead against the wall. Sure, it hurt, like a LOT but it didn’t quite clear her head of the.. Thing that had plagued her all week long. So, she did it again and harder.

“Ow!” she whined after her head smacked against the wall. “Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!”

Rachel Morgan-Berry. She continued to tap her head against the wall. Why did it have to be Rachel Morgan-Berry? Quinn was just sitting in English class, passing notes with Brittany and Santana, while thinking about bringing about the demise of the Glee Club when she just happened to take a passing glance at Rachel.

Rachel. With her plaid skirt pulled up way too high on her waist, which showed a fair amount of leg. Rachel had nice legs, Quinn had to admit. Which lead Quinn to moving her gaze upwards, to the flat plain of Rachel’s stomach and Quinn wondered if that was as toned as Rachel’s legs. Then, her gaze went to Rachel’s breasts. All things considered, like Rachel’s horrid fashion sense and because, you know, Quinn *wasn’t* blind, Quinn also had to admit Rachel Morgan-Berry had really nice breasts, like, *really* nice.

Quinn’s eyes moved to Rachel’s lips and, suddenly, she was thinking about kissing them. Like a visceral slap to the face, the image was *there*, like all front and center and Quinn couldn’t _see_ anything else because all she saw was herself kissing Rachel, one hand under that ridiculous sweater, touching one of those perfect breasts, the other hand under the cute but worn completely wrong skirt, sliding between tanned and toned thighs, touching what was underneath..

Then, IT happened.

The vampire equivalent of ‘sporting a woodie’ and Quinn had it. Her fangs extended like a shot, almost painfully. Uppers and lowers, which Quinn, even on her best days, could never do voluntarily. It wasn’t the how that shocked Quinn but the why. Quinn was sporting vampire wood because of Rachel Morgan-Berry. Even Finn, who was human which was like a Happy Meal on legs to a vampire or Puck, who was a werewolf, couldn’t get Quinn to pop wood.

But Rachel did.

Quinn shot up from her seat like a bolt, one hand pressed to her face, the other covering her stomach because she felt like she was going to throw up. Which was good because the teacher assumed as much even though Quinn didn’t bother wait for permission before running out of class.

She stood in the bathroom a good ten minutes banging her head against the wall. Even after the bell rang and she could hear the halls filling with students, Quinn didn’t leave the shelter of the bathroom.

“Go away!” Quinn growled at the sound of the bathroom door opening. While there were _Inderlanders_ attending William McKinley High School, mostly witches, fairies and pixies, Quinn was the only vampire. And most students knew to keep a wide berth when she was in one of her moods.

Most students except Rachel Morgan-Berry.

“Are you okay?” Rachel asked and Quinn groaned quietly at the sound of her voice because, for no reason in particular, Rachel’s voice did warm and squishy things to Quinn’s insides.

“Do I look okay?” Quinn whipped around, not quite ready to leave the safety of the wall but okay enough to get into a verbal sparring match. There was a large bruise on the center of her forehead which, now that she was no longer beating her head against a wall, quickly began to clear.

“You don’t have to be rude,” Rachel pursed her lips which, again, Quinn suddenly found incredibly cute. “I was just being polite.”

Quinn crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t need your charity.”

“Fine,” Rachel huffed.

“Fine,” Quinn snapped back.

Rachel turned to face the mirror, leaning over in that irritating way of hers where her hips jutted outwards. Where the hem of her skirt lifted where, if Quinn were that sort of person, she could tilt her head and get a good peak at what was underneath. If she were that type of person.

Apparently, today, Quinn was. Because she could feel the muscles in her neck moving, tilting her head sideways. Her eyes were going up the backs of Rachel’s thighs. Her tongue surreptitiously poked between her lips and began to run over them. Except, it caught on the tip of her fang, the razor sharp edge nicking her flesh. The stick of pain, the taste of her own blood and Quinn snapped out of her haze.

“You think you’re something special, don’t you?” Quinn sniped. She knew ‘this’, she understood ‘this’. Fighting. She lurched towards it like a harbor light in a maelstrom. Familiarity. Comfort. Safety.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Rachel smirked back, turning towards Quinn and matching her ‘arms folded over the chest with canted hips’ pose. “So does Finn.”

The shriek escaping Quinn’s throat was inhuman. Withy her vampire quickness, she lunged at Rachel, grabbed her by the shoulders, spun her around and slammed the brunette against the wall. Her hands pinned Rachel by the wrists, pushing them up above her shoulders and close to Rachel’s head.

“You leave Finn alone!” Quinn hissed. Her irises were nothing but black orbs surrounded by a sliver of hazel.

“Get off of me!” Rachel hissed back. She was doing this.. wriggling thing because, while Quinn didn’t intend to, she’d pressed her body up against Rachel’s and what had been done in anger quickly turned to something else.

Something else.

Quinn opened her mouth and sucked in a hurried breath to speak. Mixed with the air she breathed in, Rachel’s scent washed into her mouth, over her tongue. Quinn tasted everything - Rachel’s scent, Rachel’s emotions, Rachel’s pheromones.

Pheromones. Sex pheromones.

“God, you’re such a freak,” Quinn mumbled, leaning her head into the crook of Rachel’s neck and inhaling deeply.

“I’m not a freak,” Rachel swallowed hard.

“Anyone else would be pissing their pants right about now,” Quinn chucked, pulling back her head enough to gaze into Rachel’s eyes. “You’re wet but it’s not from fear.”

“I like boys.”

“Your scent says otherwise.”

“You’re smelling me?” Rachel gaped. “And *I’m* the freak?”

“Is that how you do it? Bring the boys to your yard?” Quinn drew her lips over Rachel’s. “Is it a spell? Or something else?”

Rachel gulped again. By all rights, she should have been scared shitless. Should have. But, there was something alluring about Quinn. Dark and dangerous. All the things Rachel knew she shouldn’t like but here it was, all lithe and lean and pressed up against her. And Quinn was doing something.. very bad with her thigh that, at the moment, felt really, really good.

And her lips, Quinn’s lips, they were right against Rachel’s mouth. Quinn exhaled. Rachel inhaled and it was like breathing in desire. She felt dizzy and warm (really warm) and sluggish like her limbs had turned to clay.

“I like bo..” Rachel never finished. Quinn pressed their lips together. Quinn’s tongue slid between Rachel’s lips. Rachel reciprocated and their tongues were slip-sliding over each other.

Rachel brain didn’t recognize Quinn’s release of one of her hands until she felt it between them, between Rachel’s legs. Then Quinn touched Rachel ‘there’. And the little voice screaming in the back of Rachel’s lust-fueled brain rose to a deafening roar.

The energy rose, crackling across Rachel’s skin like static electricity gone supernova. There was a crack like a thick tree being ripped open followed by a boom.

And Quinn was flying across the room.

She slammed hard against the barrier of magic energy that suddenly rose up from the floor, then smacked hard against the floor.

Ley line magic. Rachel had used ley line magic. Except, as Rachel gaped at the Cheerio angrily rising to her feet, instead of placing Rachel in a protective bubble, the spell had trapped Quinn.

“Rachel,” Quinn hissed, banging her hands against the barrier. “Get me out of here!”

“You tried to pull an aura on me,” Rachel angrily jabbed her finger at Quinn. “You tried to eat me!”

“I wasn’t going to eat you. Well,” Quinn paused, rolling her eyes a little. “Not how you think! Besides, you used magic!” Quinn tapped her fingers against the barrier. It was like looking through a red stained-glass smeared with grease. “You could get expelled for that!”

“You could get expelled for trying to eat me!”

“I wasn’t trying to eat you!” Quinn balled her hands into fists and stamped her foot like a petulant child. “Now get me out of here!”

Rachel’s shoulders sagged. She ran a nervous hand through her hair. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean ‘you can’t’?”

“I’ve never used ley line magic before. I don’t even know how I did,” she pointed to the domed barrier containing Quinn. “That.”

Quinn’s eyes went dark again. “Rachel Morgan-Berry, I swear to God, if you don’t get me..” Quinn’s voice trailed off.

“What?” Rachel asked. Quinn’s hand shot up with a ‘shush’ movement. Quinn turned her eyes away from Rachel, staring down at the floor.

“What is it?” Rachel took a step towards her.

Quinn’s face jerked hurriedly towards Rachel. Her eyes were back to normal, only now they were wide with fear. “There’s something in here.”

Rachel approached until she was right next to the barrier. Even though she was on the outside, Rachel ‘felt’ something. More like heard something, footsteps in the distance, loud and thunderous and getting closer with every step.

Rachel hadn’t just used to ley line to create a protective barrier, she’d created one that connected to ‘the ever-after’, the plane of existence where demons lived.

Now, a demon was coming for Quinn.

“Rachel?” A panicked look in her eyes, Quinn slammed both hands onto the barrier.

“I don’t know what to do,” Rachel paced wildly. There were other witches in the school but they were all students like Rachel, and knew even less about magic. Suddenly, a thought hit Rachel. She scrambled for her purse, hurriedly yanking out her cell. All the while, the steps got closer and closer.

“Daddy?” Rachel spoke into the device. “I need your help. Just.. don’t get mad at me. I kinda made a protective barrier using ley line magic.. I didn’t mean to, I was kinda in a fight and I needed to protect myself and it just kinda popped up and my friend‘s trapped in it.. I know. That‘s totally weird, isn‘t it?”

Quinn turned her back to Rachel, pressing it against the barrier like she could push her way through it. “Rachel,” she whined. “What the Hell are you doing?”

“Daddy, there’s a demon coming for her..” Silence. “Okay,” Rachel began rummaging through her purse again. “Okay. Call you back.”

Rachel grabbed the talisman from her purse - a pencil with a troll doll stuck on the eraser. She held it close to her breast then began reciting the words her father had given her.

Quinn slid her torso down the side of the barrier, pulling her knees up to her chest, wishing she could dare her eyes to close because she could see it now. Big and dark and ugly, its face obscured by the shadows and mist of the ever-after. Quinn knew if she were to see its face she’d go mad.

It rose onto its hind-legs.

Quinn screamed.

The barrier popped. The resistance gone, Quinn lurched backwards. She scrambled onto her hands and knees, scurrying spider-like backwards until she slammed into Rachel, who knelt down and wrapped her arms around Quinn. Bits of the left-over magic, like ashes from a fire, fell and dissipated around the two girls, like ashes from a fire.

“Are you okay?” Rachel exhaled like she’d forgotten to breathe.

“No,” Quinn jerked out of Rachel’s embrace and quickly rose to her feet. “I’m not.”

**

Quinn had run out the bathroom a moment later. Rachel had thought, for sure, the entire school would be outside in the hallway, alerted someone had used ley line magic. But, there was no one. If any of the students knew, which Rachel doubted they would, they weren’t telling.

She spent the rest of the school day a nervous ball of energy. There was the worry of someone finding out what she’d done and getting expelled. The worry of what her Dad’s were going to do to her for using ley line magic. Then, there was the worry in regards to Quinn Fabray.

Quinn had kissed Rachel. QUINN ‘IVY’ FABRAY. Head of the Cheerios. The girlfriend of Finn Hudson. The Queen of Bee of the social hierarchy. THAT Quinn Fabray.

Rachel just couldn’t figure out why.

So, between thinking the giant portends of doom were going to come crashing down on her head at any second, Rachel thought of that kiss. The feel of Quinn’s lips, the taste of her tongue, her hands, *that* hand, the one that crept up Rachel’s skirt. The shudder that enveloped Rachel’s body every time she thought of that touch.

Finally, school ended, although Rachel wasn’t sure if she should think it a good thing or a bad thing. She exited the school and headed towards the line of buses.

A blue car rushed towards her. She yelped, closing her eyes and bracing her body for impact at the sound of squealing tires. When she didn’t feel her body flying through the air or crashing against the cement, Rachel dared to open her eyes.

Quinn shoved open the passenger’s side door facing Rachel. “Get in!” she yelled.

“Why?”

“Because if you don’t I’ll tell the Principal about your little Bewitched act in the bathroom.”

“Fine,” Rachel huffed, sliding into the passenger’s seat and closing the door behind her. “What do you want?”

“I hate you. Do you understand this? I hate you. I hate your stupid hair, your stupid clothes, that stupid smile you always get on your face. I hate Glee. I hate it because you’re in Glee. I hate that you’ve roped Finn into Glee. I hate you!” Quinn slammed her fist on the steering wheel. “I hate you! I hate you! I *hate* you!” She finished then slumped forward, resting her forehead on the wheel.

Rachel pursed her lips, unsure what to say. She liked boys. She probably hated Quinn as much as Quinn hated her. Yet, here she was in Quinn’s car, not getting out and slamming the car door as hard as she could. She sat in Quinn’s car and thought about Quinn’s lips pressed against hers.

“I know a place where we can make out and not get caught.”

Quinn shot up to a seated position. “I’ll drive,” she murmured and slammed the stick into gear.

**

“This is a joke, right?” Quinn gaped, staring out the front window of her car as the two pulled before an old church.

“No, it‘s my house,” Rachel smiled softly, unlatching the seat belt before exiting the car. “Don’t worry. It’s not consecrated.”

Quinn exited the car, a disbelieving look on her face as Rachel dug into her purse and pulled out a set of keys.

“My Dad’s bought this a year ago,” she explained, walking around the property to a back door. “We’re moving in once it’s restored. There’s still a lot of work to be done,” she pointed to the stacks of wood, work table and various power tools strewn about. “They’ve been working on it every weekend since they bought it.” She opened the door, her lips spreading into a broad grin. “This is my favorite part.”

“Whoa,” Quinn exclaimed.

The kitchen was huge, with hardwood floors and an earthen décor. A large island sat in the middle, various pots and pans hung from the huge rack overhead.

“This alone took like six months.” Rachel walked towards the large refrigerator. “You want some pizza? They’re just leftovers but they real tomato sauce.”

“Seriously?” Quinn’s jaw dropped open. “Like real tomatoes?” The last time Quinn had tasted pizza with real tomato sauce, or tomatoes in general, was over three years ago. Her family had gone to Cincinnati while on vacation. Dad took them to a vamp-owned restaurant called Piscari’s. Quinn still looked back fondly on those days, before her parents true motivations towards her had been revealed.

“Mmm-hmm,” Rachel nodded with a huge smile on her face. She carried the small box to a corner of the kitchen, placing the remaining slices on a plate before putting it into the microwave.

Minutes later, after Quinn had inhaled her slices and there was nothing left but the bones, Quinn dared a gaze at the brunette sitting across from her. She took a sip from her soda, swallowing the last bite. “Why are you being so nice to me?” Quinn asked.

“I don’t know,” Rachel shrugged. “Kindred spirits, I guess.” Which was true. There weren’t many _Inderlanders_ in Lima. And while the city did its best to integrate the _Inderlanders_ into human society, there was still an aspect of fear.

But, what Rachel wasn’t quite ready to admit, or at least say to Quinn, there had been something else. She’d like to say it had started with their kiss in the bathroom. But, it had always been there, back even when they were just little kids. A certain.. draw towards each other. Rachel had ignored, avoided and to downright refusing to acknowledge its existence. But she couldn’t avoid it when their lips met, more than heat, more than desire or lust or want, something that was down in her bones and seemed to draw outwards the longer they touched.

Then, Rachel threw up her defenses, trapping Quinn in a magic barrier and Rachel *saw* it - strands, like golden tendrils of light, that seemed to stretch outwards from Rachel’s insides and into Quinn. Light that couldn’t be severed by the barrier. Quinn’s aura seemed to be made of it and Rachel couldn’t tell if it was coming from Rachel or Quinn.

And that scared her more than anything. How could two people so opposite of each other, and seemingly hating each other, be so connected?

“I’ve been nothing but awful to you,” Quinn admitted with a hint of shame in her voice, knocking Rachel from her thoughts. “If the situation were reversed..”

Rachel snorted. “Like I ever would have kissed you!”

“Are you saying you wouldn’t?” Quinn huffed, folding her arms over her chest. “I seem to remember you kissing me back.”

“Only because you put an aura on me. I like boys.”

“Then why am I here?”

Rachel’s eyes suddenly found something of interest on the counter-top. Her cheeks were blushing hard and her heart had suddenly turned into a racehorse going for the Triple-crown beneath her breast. She took a glance up at Quinn. The vampire’s eyes had gone dark, the irises growing to two pits of black within hazel orbs. “You’re smelling me again, aren’t you?” she asked, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

“You kinda make it hard not to.” Quinn inhaled deeply. It was supposed to be a cleansing breath only it just made things worse. Rachel was definitely aroused. Worse, Quinn’s scent from their earlier encounter still lingered on Rachel, making Rachel smell like she was Quinn’s. It took everything Quinn had not to leap over the kitchen island and make the witch completely hers.

“What do we do now?” Quinn asked.

Rachel got that smile on her face that Quinn hated but totally didn’t. She looked up at Quinn with playful and bright brown eyes. “I think I have an idea.”

**

“You can’t be serious?” Quinn stared hard at the brunette. They were standing in Rachel’s bedroom, one of the first rooms to be completed in the unfinished church. Quinn was standing next to Rachel’s bed, which was good because it meant there were about to ‘happy fun times’ ahead. And she was so horny at the moment the posts on Rachel’s four-poster bed were starting to look like good alternatives. But then Rachel reached into her bag of tricks and.. Well..

“I’m dead serious,” Rachel countered, holding up the cuffed restraints by the chain bounding them together with a finger. “You’re, like, a vampire. And I don’t trust that you won’t pull an aura on me.”

“Do I even want to know where you got those?” They were thick metal binds, lined with leather and fur.

“No,” Rachel answered. “Either we do it this way or I foresee several *very* cold showers in your near future.”

Quinn growled, like, literally growled. Of course, growling at Rachel didn’t stop Quinn from climbing onto the bed or rolling onto her back. “Fine,” she huffed.

“Wow. Um, okay.” Rachel really hadn’t expected Quinn to say ‘yes’. Breaking out the handcuffs was supposed to be a bluff. Where Quinn was supposed to go ‘aw, hell now’ and they’d never talk about it again except after a few drinks during their ten-year high school reunion. When Rachel was a big star, deigning the citizens of Lima, Ohio with her presence.

Now, she had a vampire dressed in a cheerleaders uniform lying on her bed for the sole purpose of making out.. Because Rachel had invited her. Rachel liked boys. No, seriously, she did. That she and Quinn had already made out once, sorta, was irrelevant. Rachel had made out with Finn.. and Puck, two of the hottest boys in school. It didn’t mean she liked girls.

Of course, there was that niggling little fact that Quinn pulling an aura (which she didn’t) had absolutely nothing to do with Rachel kissing Quinn back. Or that, even before Rachel had Quinn Fabray on her bed ready to stick her vamp tongue down Rachel’s witch throat, the little growl thing Quinn did? Made Rachel feel like she was touching herself without actually touching herself. Or that one time Rachel *did* touch herself thinking about Quinn’s growl.

“Rachel?” Quinn asked with the cant of an expectant eyebrow. Rachel was like an alien creature to Quinn. A puzzle box she couldn’t quite figure out. Oh, she understood Rachel’s drive to succeed and unwavering belief in her abilities. Lord knows, no one else wanted to be in Rachel Morgan-Berry’s corner.

But, there was the ‘other’ Rachel. The one with the hot body underneath the ‘worn totally wrong’ clothes. The Rachel who had deep brown eyes and the most kissable lips. The Rachel who’s voice made Quinn’s insides quiver whenever she heard the brunette sing.

The realization hit Quinn like a two-ton truck filled with raging hormones - she had a crush on Rachel. Quinn hated Rachel because she wanted her.

Before Quinn had a chance to turn tail and run, Rachel was on the bed. She clambered over Quinn, straddling Quinn’s waist, looking down at her with heated and unsure eyes.

Quinn’s fangs extended like a shot. And all thoughts that Good Quinn could muster were beaten to a pulp by Horny Bad Quinn. Because, oh yes, she remembered now. She wanted this. Real bad.

Quinn let Rachel guide Quinn’s arms up the mattress until they were over her head. Then the restraints were around her wrists but Quinn couldn’t think about that. She had Rachel’s breasts in her face, like, Right There. And all the blood in her body rushed to that space between her legs that flared like a star gone super nova and pulsed just as hard.

“These aren’t too tight?” Rachel asked, leaning back a little.

All Quinn could do was shake her head ‘no’. She could probably muscle her way out of them if she wanted to. If she wanted to.

Rachel leaned her face closer to Quinn’s. With her fingertips, she grazed them over Quinn’s lips. Quinn’s mouth opened and Rachel felt warm, wet breath. She could see the tips of Quinn’s teeth.

“Does it hurt when they come out?” Rachel asked.

“No,” Quinn shook her head.

“Have you ever bitten anyone?”

Quinn closed her lips, her cheeks blazing hot as she turned her eyes away from Rachel’s.

“It’s okay,” Rachel whispered, tilting Quinn’s face back to hers. She leaned closer, brushing her lips against Quinn’s. “It’s okay.”

Quinn gasped at that first brush of contact, of Rachel’s breath in her mouth, of her scent. She closed her eyes, too afraid to keep them open, too afraid she might lose control.

Rachel kissed Quinn gently, softly. She pulled Quinn’s upper lip between her lips and suckled, then did the same with Quinn’s lower lip. Then it was lips against lips, tongues brushing against tongues. Rachel careful not to nick her tongue against Quinn’s fangs.

It was nice. Like, _really_ nice. Like kissing a boy but different. Better. Softer and gentler, even though she could feel Quinn wriggling beneath her, suppressing the desire to be in control.

Seconds, minutes, hours, they kissed. Rachel kissed Quinn and all Quinn could do was let her. Almost like torture because Quinn really wanted to touch Rachel. She wanted to yank her arms down, roll the two over and pin Rachel to the bed.

“Wait,” Quinn gasped in that tiny moment Rachel came up for air. “I want to see you.”

“What?”

“Hey, if I’m gonna be tied up, you’ve gotta give me something.” She gazed at Rachel with irises as black as midnight.

“Like what?” Rachel asked, not to certain of this new rule thrown into the game.

Quinn licked her lips and growled just a little bit. “Take off your shirt.”

Normally, Rachel would have been all ‘not on your life’. But, Quinn just did that little growling thing and, technically, since Quinn’s hands were cuffed, Rachel showing her breasts wasn’t the same as going to second base if there was no touching.

“Fine.” Rachel lifted up to a seated position. The cardigan came off quickly, tossed behind her and landing in somewhere in the nether regions of her bedroom. Next came her bra. She kept her eyes on Quinn as she fumbled with the latches. Quinn, with the corner of her lip sucked between her teeth and stared at Rachel’s breasts as if they held the secrets of the universe.

Rachel pulled off the black lace bra, Quinn growled again and Rachel almost came right on the spot. She pounced onto Quinn, mashing their lips together. And it was like something dark had unleashed from within the brunette. Hard and hurried and urgent, writhing and grinding atop Quinn. Then, Rachel’s lips were no longer on Quinn’s but trailing on her jaw and then..

Rachel’s lips were on Quinn’s neck. The neck of a vampire, the erogenous of erogenous zones for her species. The only thing more intimate than kissing a vampire on the neck was breaking the skin.

Quinn cried out. Her eyes rolling into the back of her head as Rachel began applying suction. There was a hand between them, Rachel’s hand, fumbling with Quinn’s skirt, sliding into her panties and two erogenous zones became one. Like two live-wires brought together, Quinn was nothing more than one giant aching ball of need.

Rachel shifted her legs. She was no longer straddling Quinn’s waist but Quinn’s thigh. Quinn had no idea when or where or how, not that she cared, because all that mattered was, underneath Rachel’s skirt, there was nothing but skin. Rachel was wet, warm and slippery against Quinn’s thigh.

“Rachel..” Quinn keened and Rachel moaned into Quinn’s neck.

She liked boys. She liked boys, something in the back of Rachel‘s mind repeated like it could make it true. But no boy had ever done *this* to her. Her aura flared out, enveloping the two of them. More than that, Quinn’s aura did the same and it enveloped Rachel and their auras were mixing and intermingling until Rachel didn’t know where hers ended and Quinn’s began.

Quickly, it no longer mattered. Because Rachel was coming, writhing and undulating, whining into Quinn’s neck. And Quinn was coming, bucking beneath Rachel, squeezing Rachel’s fingers like she never wanted to let go, releasing the scream trapped in the back of her throat.

**

Quinn was alone when she regained consciousness. She didn’t blackout, per se, she just came and came and came then collapsed like she’d fallen ten stories onto the mattress.

The restraints were still on her wrists. The air still thick with the scents of sex and sweat, Rachel and Quinn. Quinn lifted her head.

Rachel sat on the edge of the mattress, knees drawn up to her chin, the cardigan bunched up in the space between her legs and chest.

“Rachel?”

She lifted her eyes. They were sad and kinda scared and Quinn pulled at the restraints because all she wanted to do was put her arms around Rachel and make *that* look go away.

“Did you see it?” she asked. “Our auras.”

“Yeah,” Quinn answered. “What does it mean?”

Rachel shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Quinn relaxed her head, letting it slump back down on the pillow. “Is it always supposed to feel.. like that?” Not that she’d admit this to Rachel but Quinn had only had sex once before. And she’d been drunk at the time.

“I don’t know.” There was a beat of silence, then Rachel filled it. “I like boys.”

She was pulling away. Like everyone else in her life, the moment Quinn tried to get close, they pulled away. She wondered if that’s why she’d hated Rachel so much. Maybe somewhere deep inside, she understood there was something special between them. Something special Quinn could never have.

“Can you take these things off?” Quinn jangled the chain attaching her to the bed frame.

“Yeah,” Rachel mumbled. “Sure.” She rose off the bed, quickly putting on her cardigan before finding the keys. This time, she sat on the edge of the bed rather than straddling Quinn’s waist as she slid the key into the lock.

Quinn kept her mouth shut to keep from showing the fangs that had once again extended inside her mouth. Rachel still had Quinn’s scent all over her, inside her. More than physical, more than sexual, it went beyond that. Deeper.

Her hands free, Quinn grabbed Rachel by the wrists. She turned the two, tossing Rachel onto her back and pouncing quickly on the witch. For the first time, Quinn smelled Rachel’s fear. Any other time, Quinn would have seriously gotten off on the reaction. Now, it was like a blade piercing her heart.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” Quinn asked as she gazed down into Rachel’s eyes.

“No,” Rachel answered. “I don’t.”

Quinn’s lips twisted into a snarl as a feral wail bubbled up her throat. She jerked her head towards Rachel’s, mashing their lips together. The kiss was as passionate as it was cold. It wasn’t a kiss of desire but of possession. Quinn wanted Rachel to know - Rachel was Quinn’s now. Forever and always, even if it was just for this one moment.

Then Quinn pulled their lips apart, scurried off the bed and ran towards the door.

**

Quinn didn’t cry once during the drive home, or when she stormed up the stairs of her house and slammed the door to her bedroom behind her. She didn’t cry when she ripped off her Cheerios uniform and tossed it into a garbage bag, wrapping it tight until the clothes that reeked with the scent of Rachel Morgan-Berry no longer filled her nostrils.

It wasn’t until the blast of the shower head hit Quinn’s face, until the water washed over her skin and the last of Rachel swirled in the drain. Only then did Quinn cry.

She cried for her undead parents, who could never love her like she wanted and only saw her as a possession to be used for vampiric political gain. She cried for the older sister who got away from this life and never looked back.

Quinn cried for Rachel Morgan-Berry. Quinn cried *because* of Rachel Morgan-Berry. She cried for a love that was found and, just as quickly, forever lost. Quinn was a vampire. She couldn’t love like they do in books and movies and tv. It could never be pure or good or clean. It would always be tainted.

Just like Quinn.

END


End file.
